The Blood of the Gods
by The Mysterious Nobody
Summary: Blood, corruption, betrayal and horror remain hidden behind the thin veil of lies of the Masquerade. The Blood of the Gods, conducted by the Wings of Hermes will unlock the secrets of life itself. A Tale of horror Wizards and Vampires. Crossover, AU.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: I don't own "Harry Potter" or "Vampire The Masquerade" series. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction... those trademarks and non-original characters are owned by "J.K Rowling" "Raincoast Books" and "White Wolf Games Studio"

**Author's Notes**: This is the prologue of my first fic. I started rewritting it and will continue to do so. When I read back the original, I found it lacking, bad and with major plotholes from ideas that came along while I was writing. Now I'm trying to use what I can from the first attempt, correct mistakes and fill plotholes so it can be an, at least, half-decent story.

The fic is a crossover between Harry Potter and Vampire: The Masquerade. As those who know about 'VtM' will see, I'll slightly bend both universes to my liking so the crossing over can be done. There is too much to add from the entire World of Darkness and it can't be done without a lot of tweaking. I'll also will ignore the whole Gehenna as if it never happened. No, Ravnos won't be awake anytime soon in my fic. I didn't like the way White Wolf ended the old WoD, and I don't like 'Vampire: The Requiem' much.

Those who don't have a clue about it don't have to worry. Everything will be explained to an extent so you can follow the story.

-This chapter has been betaed by **Tehan** and **sephirotbrokenangel**. thanks to them.

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The Blood of the Gods

PROLOGUE

What's my name you say? I usually respond to that with a snort, but just for you I'll make an exception. You're the one asking for answers, and I'll give them to you. I'll guarantee, though, that it won't be pretty.

My name... I'm not sure of my name anymore. I've gone long using aliases, being called other names than the one I was originally given, hiding and avoiding those who can relate me to it as much as I can. As the time passed I grew accustomed to respond to those other calls, but if I had to tell you the story behind it, I would give you the first one I was known for. It would sound familiar to you, for My name is, or was, Harry James Potter. My parents gave it to me, my name that is, centuries ago, and I should remember it as the only gift I got from them before their deaths, but I can't even remember what they looked like, so why bother. They are dead, and so am I. The only difference between us is that I, despite being dead, the cold, clammy skin, despite having no heartbeat and my lack of breath, I'm right here telling you this story, while they are probably buried and rotting.

How can it be? Dear, believe me when I tell you that it can. After all, you're listening to my story, aren't you?

But first, and before we enter fully into the matter, let me ask you a couple of silly and petty questions. Humor me, I'm too old to be denied a little bit of amusement after all...

Tell me, Have you ever seen it? Have you ever felt it?

Don't blush, I wasn't referring to that. No? That's a pity. But worry no more, darling. After tonight, I assure you that you will have seen enough to avoid sleep in weeks. Am I scaring you? I'm sorry, but that's the way I've grown up to be. You can't blame me for my upbringing, can you? I wasn't always like this, but experiences change people, and that's what happened to me. I experienced. I changed.

So, as I was saying, What if one day you woke up and realized that the society in which you live has something hidden in it?

Something dark. Something obscure...

We've got the feeling more than once. Everyone has. You know it's there, but you can't quite place it. Elusive, vague, wrong...

You surely thought of it. As I already said, everyone has. Long before, I used to think about it. Some said that I had quite a nice "sixth sense" for those things, others just stated that I was a moron and should just live my life.

Well, there are always those who told you at some point during your short life that there was something off, that something was not quite right. Strange things happened before your eyes, and you were ignoring it. That there was an entire world hidden behind the facade of the one you lived in. Prophets, seers, madmen, paranoids. Kine deal with them pretty quickly, label them as somewhat unworthy and ignore them as fast as they can. Their lives pass rapidly and they don't have the time to bother. Wizards, on the other hand... Those are a completely different matter. Despite their faults, they do tend to listen those who can help unveil secrets in magic and many mysteries. Seers in particular are hailed as something rare and valuable, and their prophecies are always deemed true. The fact is though, that some of those people can be right about some things. You never know what piece of valuable information can find in-between the ramblings of a madman.

Wizards? Of course they exist. No I haven't gone off the rocker. Do not worry, everything will be explained in due time. Patience, my dear, is everything I'm asking for.

And still, dismissing all the clues and the little evidence we continued with our normal lives. Everything was normal, right?

In the end, everything comes down to a question of faith. Do you believe in god? No? You should. Pray now while you can, save your soul, because you don't know what awaits you in hell. I haven't seen it, but I've seen what it does to those who remember what they saw when they died. Of course, to believe, most of us must "see". That's society as it has been for the last couple of centuries. Science, they tell you, is the key to the future, and science is based on observation and gathering information from it, so it's a normal belief for an actual mind. Superstition? Yes, you can laugh what you want, but when this is over, you won't laugh. That, I can guarantee. Nowadays, very few have such faith to believe in something they have not seen before. Society, like most closed communities, fears what they don't know, it's in your nature after all, and the majority are quite satisfied with their simple, boring, normal lives. Take out the trash, go buy some milk, watch the TV, go to church to redeem your weekly sins to make yourself feel better despite ignoring that crap about god...

Are you faithful? Do you believe in god? Do you believe in something that can't be seen? Hypocrites, the lot of you. I laugh bitterly every time I see one of those, your 'leaders' acting in the name of god. And they call us monsters...

Now, what if I told you that I have "seen"? Would you like to take a look at what's behind the veil put in front of your eyes?

The first time I saw through that veil I was a mistreated, simple-minded, scrawny eleven year old child who accepted his fate as an insignificant bother. At that point in my life, the last thing I would have imagined was a sudden change and the only names I was known by were 'boy', 'freak' or 'that thing'. 'Harry' came later. I was insignificant, a stain in the perfect picture of a normal life just because strange and unbelievable things happened around me. There was something odd, something off about me, but I could never place it. Does this remind you of the questions I asked before? In the end, when I was resigned to my fate, I discovered that I had been lied to all my life until my eleventh birthday. Something strange and incredible happened, something magical. Now I wouldn't qualify it as such, but back then, to me and my perception as a child, it was a miracle. A ray of light tearing through the darkness of my life like a sharp sword snapping open the gut of an enemy; my own Hogwarts Letter.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Indeed, magic was real and it was learned in a school. Several schools in fact.

Sounds surreal? But little one, we just got started...

Suddenly I was in a new world, a world where I was someone, where I had a purpose, a world where I fit. A world hidden behind the one I knew before, the Wizarding World. My own world. Yes, they existed. I already told you, witches and wizards, and an entire community of other magical beings, unknown to the always oblivious and unobservant 'Muggles'.

What are 'Muggles' you say?. That's the term _they_ use for non magical people like _you_.

Then, Hogwarts came, and with it my education in the magical arts. Magic was my life, and normalcy was not a common thing in a land of magical folk. Little did I know when I stepped into that hellhole, that soon would come the disappointment. That fantastic world was in essence, as dark and oblivious as this one. Rotten and corrupt, conservative, lazy and lacking in progress. They assigned me, and only me, the arduous task of being the one who ended a war. As you can imagine, that is tiresome and it can pretty much consume a person. I'm not the weakest bloke around, everyone would succumb to that pressure. Magic was my life, but it also pretty much destroyed my opportunity at enjoying it. At the time I was still oblivious but that strange funny feeling. I didn't know that there was still a blindfold before my eyes. There it was, in the back of my mind, as always. Something was off, something dark, something obscure...

Yes, for once you guessed right, my dear. There are other communities that even those of the wizarding world do not know of their existence. That hidden 'underworld' is the main and only puppeteer in your lives. It has everything to do with you, as you are necessary for its survival. For our survival. After all, you mortals control the cattle, don't you? We do the same...

Did I say 'mortals'? Sorry, must have slipped. We'll get into that later.

The world I'm talking about, as I said, has everything to do with yours, but at the same time, is completely different. We begin our activities as the sun sets, our deeds are put in motion while you are sleeping in the comfy illusion of security that is your home. We are creatures of the night, and we love it. We control, we bribe, we feed and we fight our wars. Ones in favor of remaining hidden, manipulating in the shadows, others wishing to be exposed and reign as dominant species, but both with the primal wish of survival.

Mafia? No, you've got it wrong. We are more than that, although our social structure could remind you of it. We are an entire community, a society of beings that prey from you. Oh yes, you are our prey, we feed from you and we are born from you. We are always there, watching, waiting... You must have seen one of us more than once. That young stud in the bar, watching you with strange glowing eyes, that buxom, pale brunette who seems to hover in the dance floor, approaching young and healthy suitors, that strange man beside the politician in the gala, the scarred manager of that club you used to like a few years before... ...they could pretty much be one of us.

The Undead, the Lamia, the Sons of the Devil, the Children of the Night, Devils, Monsters, Archfiends, _Nosferatu_. Vampires.We are the Children of Caine, we are vampires, immortals. We have little to fear, but we are that which must be feared. Sometimes, Some of us have even been worshipped and adored like gods, others have been scorned, but the world is always ours, and always will be, at least that's what some of us believe.

You don't need look so winded. Not just yet. Yes, I'm a Vampire, a fiend. I like most of my peers, my kinship, have to drink blood to survive, and I enjoy it greatly. Maybe later you can give me a taste, no? The metallic flavor always makes my days, and sadly, lately it's been my only pleasure. We have fangs, some of us even claws, and our powers far surpass yours. It is not easy to kill us, and we are only forbidden to see the sun ever again; if we did, we would burn to ashes and dust. Aside from that, we can stand where human creations have disappeared, crumbled or have been destroyed. Because in the end, it all comes to survival. We are the highest point in the pyramid, we are 'the' predators, you are the prey. Make sure you close the window while you sleep, there's always one of us near.

For now, I'm not going to tell you more than the basics. I want you to understand the story, if not, there would be no point in telling it to you. You should be grateful; my Sire never was kind enough to explain much of this to me.

Vampires are a big community called the Kindred. We are all the children of Caine, yes, the one in the Bible, who we are told that was the first of us. A Vampire is born when he's "embraced" by another of the Damned, given "the kiss" as we say, or fed with the Vitae, blood, of one of our kind. My Sire did it to me, and the Sire of my Sire did to her. It always goes like this. Generally, the 'embrace' is a complicated and complete ritual, but sometimes it can happen in ways no one imagined. It can be pleasant or it can be extremely traumatic, but it always ends with one life lost. For starters, and for the standards of my original clan, my embrace was a quite curious variation of what it should have been, but now is not the time. Everything will be explained...

What's the Sire? The Sire is the Bloodfather or Bloodmother of a newborn Vampire, and this newborn is this Sire's Childe. His or her role is to instruct the recently embraced Childe, taking the newborn under his or her wing and bring the recently born Kindred up as a proper member of Vampiric society. The same role that an actual father or mother would play in their child's education. Isn't it cute? Ironically, it's never sunshine and daisies. We are a mockery of life, and a parody of what nature should be, so those roles are played in some twisted ways. As far as I am concerned, and in our world, parents should be able to educate their children as they saw fit.

Ah, I see you caught up with my reference to 'clans'. Oh yes, there are bloodlines, races, clans among us. What kind of society would we be without our little individualities? We aren't just one species, we are an entire society and we are delightfully organized and quite capable. What were you thinking? That we behave like some kind of barbaric monsters? Oh, don't worry dear, we do, but in almost every sense we work like any other society. We have our alliances and wars, interests and ambitions. Every clan has it's own particular philosophy and ways of viewing the no-life, but for our survival, most of us have to forge treaties with the others, putting aside our differences or in an extreme, battle each other.

In the end, it all comes to the most primitive thing: Survival.

The clans are various and constantly changing. Every now and then a new bloodline emerges or old faces reappear while the ones you thought invincible sink in the oblivion of time. Almost like a circle. Fortunately or not, things seem to be stable, and despite the changes, most clans remain more or less the same.

Sadly, this... 'Variety', tends to create rifts between the members of our community and lately, the politics are doing nothing more other than giving me a headache. Some are tough, but easily manipulable. Others are cunning devils pulling the strings of their puppets, but none of them is to be taken lightly. They are predators, just like I am, and as I have already told you, they will do everything they must to survive another night, just like I will.

I, for one, was born, or should I say 'reborn', in a clan dedicated to magic. What was once a group of Wizards is today a Vampiric clan courtesy of the rituals of our ancestors. The Tremere rely in blood magic and in knowledge to have their problems solved, but like most intellectuals have their heads too much up into their rectum to be competent. Still, they are the most organized and controlled clan, and that is something commendable. Disliked by most, I was once one of them. I don't know if I still am, but seeing as our relationship has been going through the years, I wouldn't want them near me again. Still, I would like to thank them for letting my hidden characteristics shine. Without them, without _her_, I would have probably been an idiot all my life.

Of course, among the clans, there are factions and alliances, those who support the Masquerade and those who are against it, the Camarilla and the Sabbat. Then, there are those "independent" who have business with clans from both factions. Believe what you want, but in the end everyone ends up using everyone else. Use what you can, while you can or you'll be eaten. Survive.

The Masquerade? Yes, the Masquerade is the veil I've been talking to you about. Is the cloth put before your eyes so you can't see the world as it is. The reasons behind it, for its supporters, are protection and preservation, but you never can tell.

You look kind of curious. It amuses me to see you eager to hear more. In fact, I expected you to be shivering by now. It's not everyday that someone drops such a bomb at you, isn't it? Maybe I was a bit boring, no? For that I can't apologize enough. It's a shame that we must talk in a situation like this, but there are things that have come to my attention and I haven't had the time to prepare. A pity.

I would have wanted this night to be special for you. Sadly, there are certain aspects of this 'lifestyle' that you need to know if you're going to listen to my tale. There is much to tell after all and only one night to do so.

Wizards don't know. Like you, Kine, a few of them are lucky enough to have seen the truth, but none has the guts to spill the beans. They aren't ignorant about our existence, that is expected seeing that we are a large community, but you could say that their information about us is at least lacking. You could say that they have been 'misled'. I still laugh when I remember Defense Classes. If only they knew... Caine must be laughing his arse off too, wherever he is.

What? We were all born from people like you sweetie. We all have been Kine, human, once. The difference is that when we died, we changed. You did not. Believe me when I say that death can bring a huge change in your perspective. At first, the hardest part of the change is leaving your life in the past to live a new one, but it must be done, I learned that the hard way. You see, being a vampire changes you. You recall your past life and try to live by your old standards, but soon you realize that It can't be.

Living things have no importance in the existence of the undead.

I've changed and I have a thirst for blood. I'm a predator, and my old friends and comrades are my new and juicy prey. I can live forever, they have limited lives. I am powerful, most of you are pitiful. So our character and our way of thinking try to adjust to this new perspective of life. Would a wolf live among sheep and eat weeds? I don't think so. It's in the nature of the predator to prey on its victims .

I remember my first days amongst the Kindred, trying to adjust to my new situation. I was scared, I found myself without magic and craving for the blood of my friends. Fear can be a powerful detonator for the most stupidest actions, and I was scared out of my wits. My embrace, as I have already told you, was 'unusual', especially for the Tremere, so I confronted some people alone when I shouldn't have. In the end, and thanks to some help, I learned what I needed to learn to survive, but if there is one thing that I will never forget, and that changed my views completely, was the face of most of the members of my unusual family when they found out about the whole thing. Their face resembled yours, and I hate that expression...

Anyway, being a Vampire is not that bad, it has its advantages. And aside from the risk of turning to ashes in contact with the sun and our dependance on blood, the average vampire is way better than the average human. We are faster, stronger and nimbler, or most of us are, and we usually turn more powerful as the years pass. Age is a serious issue among us, as is that of your sire. There are some older Kindred rumored to have godly powers, but my views tend to frown upon those statements even though I've seen things that you wouldn't even dare to imagine. In the end, power never comes for free.

Believe it or not, we Kindred learned to appreciate humanity more than any of you would think. Without our shredded remains of human emotions, we would succumb to the temptations and whispers of 'the beast'. We would be wild monsters, no better than werewolves. I already told you that power never comes for free. The 'beast' is our darker side, devoid of humanity, lacking of any thought or emotion except rage, hunger and thirst for blood. It's a demon living inside, always whispering in your ear, always ready to surface if certain forms of pressure are applied... It's always there, waiting to come out, and when it does, you don't want to be close to us.

Magic? No, not anymore. Or at least, not in the same way it worked when I was alive. Magic folk are influenced by life. Magic sustains life and life sustains magic. Death, means no magic, at least in a conventional way, but laws can always be cheated or broken. I may have lost my normal wizarding magic the moment I was turned, but I gained something I was prophesied for; the power the dark lord knew not. Even Dumbledore, my former mentor, and his petty Order didn't figure it out for the longest time but it seems destiny had always intended for me to be a bloodsucker.

What you will be told next, is my life. A biography of sorts, from the moment I turned until the deed of this tale was done.

Now, dear, you can start shivering, start screamin, try to run, but let it be quick. I said that this night would be special, and it will be, for when the dawn comes, after all what I will have told you, in one way or another, you will be dead.

There's no way for you to get out of this alive, but you can do it dead. I see it in your face, you know what I'm offering. You know that, deep down inside, you're wishing for it. If not, you would have tried to escape hours ago, yet you remain here.

Let us continue, then. Come, sit with me.

Are you afraid?

You should be...

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**The Mysterious Nobody**

I hope you've enjoyed it. Let me know what you think.


	2. The Bite

**D****isclaimer**: I don't own "Harry Potter" or "Vampire The Masquerade" series. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction... those trademarks and non-original characters are owned by "J.K Rowling" "Raincoast Books" and "White Wolf Games Studio"

**Author's Notes**: First chapter of the rewrite. As you can see, it's pretty different from the original.

This time I want to thank **Nightfox**, **Vash**, and specially **Chime**.

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The Blood of the Gods

CHAPTER 1 : The Bite

Ah, awake I see… My apologies. It seems that you were distraught about something. As I told you before, you have little to worry about, at least for the time being. Drink this and relax, we still have a long night to talk, and you are of very little use to me if you faint.

Why I brought you here, you ask.Well, I had my reasons, all of them valid, at least to me, but the most important of of them all is 'legacy'. In short, I will take my leave for quite some time, I will be gone, unnoticed, 'dead'. I want a part of me to stay. What I want, is to reveal the truth about what I am, who I was and how everything has come to this point. I want a story to be remembered by, I want this wretched society of parasites to understand my motives. I want to remain alive in the memory of every one of my followers, of every single one of my enemies. I want them to know what and who they respect, what and who they fear, give them plenty of reasons to do so, and to keep doing so until my return.

That's why I need you. That's why there's no sense in killing you, not right now.

Despite what you might think, I wasn't always like this. I was once like you are now. Innocent, naive, human... That time, though, is long gone. It is gone because of time itself, because a long lifespan is a lesson in experience. It gives you perspective. It's gone because I was embraced into the dark gift of Caine. Life an death are both natural parts of the same circle. I'm not alive, nor dead, I am supernatural, and I owe this state to my Sire. My maker, my dark mother. She will remain alive in me as long as I walk among the shadows, equally loved, equally hated.

I remember the day I met her, the same day I was introduced to this 'lifestyle', as clear as if it were yesterday. Curious, isn't it? To remember every moment of the day of your birth. It's a beautiful and terrifying thing to retain, for births are always complicated and traumatic, but the chance of experiencing something remotely resemblant to the moment you woke up for the first time in your mother's uterus is something that, in my humble opinion, everybody should remember.

The tale of my changing starts a cold october night in 1999. The place, my old flat in London. It had been just a couple of years since I had left Hogwarts, expecting to become an useful member of Wizarding society. Unfortunately for me and my petty group of friends, Voldemort was still walking among the living. We had been actively fighting in a war for two years and we were tired. My, by then, best friends, Ron and Hermione, and myself, had led the search for the Dark Lord's soul fragments, passionate to obliterate him and his cause. We succeeded in collecting the treasures containing the parts of his fragmented soul, we destroyed them in a desperate attempt to stop the upcoming war, but in what was to be the final battle, we failed. Our defeat increased the dark lord's numbers dramatically and the support to our ideology became dim and fearful, but fortunately for us, fear does not last forever. To save the little remains of a decadent, barely decent bit of wizarding society left, the three of us, Hermione, Ron and myself, with the help of certain members of the Order of the Phoenix, specific contacts in the ministry and the aid of some patronage and sponsorship of important political figures in wizarding society and even european muggle governments, we managed to raise a ministry-aided resistance.

The Ministry of Magic survived once more, albeit barely, with its system intact. Corruption included. Still, our cause gained adepts as our fame grew and we were winning some of the challenges that war presented upon us. In truth, reality was still hard on our forces. We were fighting a losing battle. In fact, we had been since we started. The dark lord plotted in his black throne and his followers increased in number day by day while order members died raid after raid in a futile effort to stop his followers.

Fools, all of them. Fools, all of us.

At the same time I started training as an Auror thanks to Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks, who gladly introduced me to the forces. I always saw myself as a rather weak individual, I always undermined my capacity, but surprisingly, my prowess grew faster than anyone would have thought possible, and with it, my fame. As my training progressed, I gained obscure allies, making some 'unclean' pacts with other families to get the support necessary to vanquish the Dark Lord, even picking up members for the now public Order of the Phoenix. Famous faces supporting our side to get more people recruited. Baits. The job was challenging, paid with blood, sweat and tears, even though in our minds, it was worth every single drop of blood we could spill to pay for it.

We would defeat Voldemort... Or so we believed.

We improved our spellcasting, our strategy and leadership abilities with some of our comrades who had been with us since the school days. We became an apparently solid paramilitary. In the end, we were still just kids playing war games. We had received training, yes, but experience is also a grade, and we were as short as a teenager can be in that department. It would become clear with time that it wasn't enough to even pretend strength within the Order but we were blind to it, trapped in an illusion of self-importance.

I grew arrogant. I lost my cool, if I ever had it in the beginning. While we were loosing the war, I was loosing myself in the search for revenge, putting it even before the lives of my comrades in a pathetic, made up, twisted logic. My grudge against some of the members of the Dark Lord's forces grew tenfold, fueled by their taunts, their attacks on those who were close to me and the damage they did to my person. With the hatred, my pride and stupidity also became bigger. For the first time in my life I felt that I wanted to kill another human being, for the first time in my life I felt pure, blinding, extreme fury, I had never felt hatred so strong, so raw, and it scared me that I had the ability to profess an emotion so strong, so blinding, so good to fulfill my purposes.

Fool.

Desperate for victory, needing vengeance, I secretly re-opened my mental link with the Dark Lord, possession be damned. Surprisingly it worked just as I hoped. In little time, and thanks to that 'little source' of information we started winning some of the battles. We could plan ahead, we could strike where it hurt the most, in the heart of their forces in almost every raid. Unknown to them, unknown to me, I was signing our death sentences. The first one in the stack: mine

Fool.

I was sitting in the kitchen, a half-empty firewhiskey bottle at my side. In front of me, a report on the raids of the past month and the remains of dinner. Between my sweaty fingers, the quill cavorted an uneasy dance over the already spilled ink bottle. It was late at nigh, my head was growing heavy and my eyelids threatened to close soon.

A loud cracking sound, followed by grumbling jerked me awake from my stupor. Still a little inebriated my hand moved clumsily to grab the wand resting on the pocket of my jeans. I got up, stumbling, supporting my weight on the same chair I had been sitting, pointing my wand to the source of the ruckus. My eyes met the image of Hermione, arms crossed, head shaking.

Hermione. The war wasn't treating her well. Her face was gaunt, devoid of the long lost happiness and eagerness that characterized her. Her hair, even more bushier than usual, stook up to unnatural places as her head shook in disapproval.

My eyebrows rose in surprise, eyes half-lidded. In the end I managed to slur something similar to "What are you doing here?"

She shook her head once again and approached me, still grumbling. Moving swiftly, she sat me in the same chair I had been occupiying not so long ago, in a rather 'masculine manner'. "_How unbecoming and rude of a lady, miss Granger_". She put her hands on her hips and adopted that bossy 'air' that she had when she wanted to annoy someone.

" 'What are you doing here?', after almost two weeks of not talking to us, after almost two weeks without knowing how you were, what were you doing, where did you go... the first thing you ask me is that? What is wrong with you, Harry? You're lucky Ron pressed me to come..."

"_Oh, that_" I interrupted her with a short laugh "So it was dear Ronald. I didn't know he cared about me that much. He had a lovely way of showing it the last time..."

"Harry, Ron was only worried about you..."

"Well he can worry about someone else!" I shouted

"You're drunk, Harry. Let me..." I interrupted her, still shouting, before she could utter anything else.

"He questioned me in front of the rest of the Order. His bloody prick was doing the talking! He's still a bloody child!, he acted as if he was the leader and tried to make himself high and mighty at my expense, always trying to get in your pants by undermining me!"

I'm sure my face had been almost as red as a tomato. Angry red. Yet, she matched me as she let her high-pitched, ear-piercing tone loose.

"And such a leader you are! Have you seen yourself lately? For your sake, Harry, take a look at your pitiful reflection! Everyone has seen it in Headquarters, they are just too afraid to tell you anything anymore. Ron just voiced what everyone thought. We are worried about you Harry, and how all this is affecting you. You come to Headquarters every once in a while, looking awful and smelling like you've been drinking, babbling about a new attack or a new raid not even telling where did you get the information from! Sure, we've won a few battles, but we're far from victory. People are dying out there with every raid Harry! You act as if you don't care anymore!"

That was the last straw. With all the force that I could gather in my state, I jumped from the chair knocking it to the floor forcefully. Grabbing her shoulders with both hands I pressed her against the wall with little too much strength. As her back impacted with the surface I heard her grunt. She struggled a bit under my hold, but I wouldn't let her move.

"I don't care!? I don't care!? I do what I do because I care, maybe way too much, for people who doesn't even move a fucking finger to end all this once and for all! How many operations have you planned Hermione? How many has Ron planned? You want to lead the order? Then do so! Grow some balls and do so! I haven't seen you, nor Ron, not Ginny, not anyone with the courage to aid me with anything! Not Once! Then, when I come with information or an operation for Ministry Approval, the only thing I get is your whining and complaints. You said it, people are dying out there. Well then, help them! Help me help them! This thing has been going to hell ever since Dumbledore died, and you're doing nothing."

I looked at her. Her face was turned to the side, eyes red and puffy, tears streaming down her cheeks. I continued.

"Look at me!" She turned her head and met my eyes with her own. "Now tell me! Have you got information about his movements. About the attacks? No? Because I've got plenty, even more than I would like to get. I wake up every day having seen people die in the most horrible and gruesome ways you can imagine. I see death, rape, mutilation and torture on a daily basis. I hear the victims cries for help, the screams of agony of every single soul he's killed! That's the price to pay for the information you get every time I come smelling like firewhiskey, and instead of thanking me, you just bitch more and more. You know what? Maybe I should do as you suggested, maybe I shouldn't care about you anymore, maybe I should give this fucking scar to Ron and let's see how you fare with it!"

Her eyes widened as she heard me ranting, as the implications of my words sunk in. I let slip what I didn't want them to know. She pushed me off her forcefully, watching my figure with a mixed look of disbelief, pity and betrayal.

"Have you gone mental Harry? You've reopened the connection with him? You're sending us out knowing that it could be a trap? Look at what happened to Sirius, Harry! Look at what happened to you the last time!"

She paced nervously shaking her head. Every now and then she threw a furtive glance at me, to see my reaction. I remained quiet for a few moments, shaking my head. No, this could not happen. Not then. Not when I was so close...

"He doesn't seem to know, not yet, we still have the advantage in this fight and I will take any clue that can win us a fight as long as it is in my grasp..."

"This works both ways Harry, of course he knows! And you're biting the lure again!"

"This is the only way. Don't you see? We'll finally be able to catch them, to destroy them. We've been doing this for almost a year. For the first time in the last three years we're winning, Hermione. We can plan beforehand, I know their every move thanks to this link and I won't close it now."

Tears were rolling down her cheeks again. Her mouth was twisted in a repressed scowl while her hand went up to slap me. But her palm never made contact. She just stood there, crying, hand trembling, in a pathetic mockery of what she had been when she apparated in the apartment. Finally, she grabbed a fistful of my shirt and looked at me with disappointment.

"You know what it hurts the most?" She whispered. "You're selling us Harry, you're like a Judas, it's just that you don't want to acknowledge that you're doing it. You're feeding yourself your own lies, and you swallow them greedily in order to seek some sort of twisted logic to do what you're doing. In the end, the only thing moving you is revenge. Nothing more, nothing less."

And she started crying again, this time in my shirt. Uncomfortable with the whole situation I looked at her blankly, without reacting, letting her do whatever she wanted. After a few moments I pushed her softly from me.

"I think you should go now."

She nodded as I turned my back on her. "I will tell the Order about this Harry"

I winced. "_Figures_". Still with my back facing her I shrugged. "Do what you will. I can't stop you" She didn't answer, she didn't move, she didn't leave. I took a brown folder from the table, handing it to her. "There will be an attack tomorrow in Hogsmeade.Tell the order and the Ministry about this too, and hopefully they will be able to save the innocent bystanders. There are plans, strategies and enemy positions in that folder, everything I could gather about the attack. I don't expect you to come, but I will be there, even if it is a trap. Good luck with the Order. You should go now."

I heard a muffled cry and the disctintive sound of apparition. Retrieving the spilled firewhiskey bottle from the table, I collapsed on the couch. I spent the rest of the night sitting there, contemplating nothing, oblivious at what the future had planned for me.

Sweet, sweet lady fate. Always screwing me over...

The Rain had not stopped, not even in Hogsmeade. Mud covered my boots and stained my wet robes as the heavy drops were hindering my vision and the road was blending itself in a mix of water, soil and noise. The sound of the rain was loud, deafening even, uncomfortable to sensitive ears, and the cold was freezing the blood running through my fingers faster than I could have thought.

I arrived to the planned spot quickly and waited, covered only by the hood of my cape. If Hermione had done her job, help would come. If not, I was fucked. As I rested, I cast a weak warming charm on my hands to preserve a bit of heat. I couldn't use nothing major without being detected, and I couldn't risk being found. As I mentally finished the incantation and the warm sensation flowed through my fingers, I felt a hand touching my shoulder.

"Potter" I spun fast to face the other presence, only to find a familiar face and a heavy moustache perched on it..

"Proudfoot? Did the Ministry send you?"

Proudfoot was one of the veteran Aurors in the Ministry. He had become a close acqauintance. We had been sent in a few missions together that same year. He was a reliable, seasoned auror and a good fighter. His sole presence eased my thoughts about this whole matter.

"Yes, Potter. The Order reported about the attack yesterday. There are two Auror teams positioned in the village plus the Order members who decided to come. Some of your friends too, although Granger seemed reluctant at first, heck, she was crying, but Weasley persuaded her to come anyway. They are both with Tonks' team, at the edge of the forest. Savage is leading the last team, they are in the center of the village."

"Who's coming with us then?"

Proudfoot looked behind for a moment and made a gesture with his hand. In a few seconds we were surrounded by seven cloaked wizards and witches.

"The Head of the Department assigned Me, Williamson, Smith, Corner and Bulstrode. From the Order, Diggle, Jones and Spinnet."

As their names were said, they were uncovering their faces, most of them familiar. It surprised me to see that Alicia had decided to come. Dedalus seemed focused on the matter at hand, as always, his ever-present purple hat pointing at me. Hestia, on the other hand, was regarding me with an inquisitive look. The presence of the members of the Order made me slightly uncomfortable, but it was necessary. I shot a glance at them and acknowledged their presence. I turned to Proudfoot again.

"Have you brought the galleons?"

He nodded. "Every squad leader has one. We aren't using the coins right now because we could set off some wards if the bastards have remembered to put them for once. Granger made quite clear that this could be a trap as she told us the plan, so we've come as prepared as we could."

We talked some more of the strategy to follow. I winced inwardly as I saw Hestia Jones sparing a few glances at me again every time the word "trap" was mentioned.

"We will talk about it later" I told her. The three members of the order made clear their approval as Proudfoot and Bullstrode, the only ones besides the Order members who had heard the word exchange, just looked at me in confusion.

"If anything goes wrong, we run to the closest apparition points, as far of Hogwarts' wards as we can get. According to the plan, we will wait for the Death Eaters to apparate at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. We will move to the center of the town, closing every escape route within a circle between Our team and Tonks' team. Both our groups will attack them by surprise after they have engaged Savage's team and..."

I stopped abruptly as a bad feeling crept up my spine. A faint noise could be heard through the heavy rain. My eyes went blank for a few moments until I realized I was being shouted at. As if the time slowed down, I saw Proudfood telling me something, but I couldn't snap out of it. As I looked at him, I saw the golden coin hanging from his neck glowing red and realization sunk in. Someone had sent an alarm message.

Quickly, I grabbed my wand as I spun, pointing it at my throat at the same time I shouted "Get Down!"

The thundering, magically enhanced voice was futile as the dirty, humid soil at the center of the group was suddenly blown up in a conjured explosion of water, mud and blood. The detonation sent the group flying in every direction. My back impacted against the wall of a little hut, taking the air out of me. After a few seconds recovering from the hit, I retrieved my wand as fast as I could. At my right, Hestia Jones was screaming in agony. Both her legs had been blown up by the sudden explosion and were now two bloody stumps. I winced as I looked at her and I couldn't help to mutter 'sorry' before running to the source of the attack. Death Eaters entered the scene rapidly, aiming their wands at us. Apparently, Proudfoot and Smith had recovered as fast as I did and were now exchanging hexes, jinxes and curses with the group of dark wizards.

Dodging a fiery crimson beam from one of Voldemort's followers, I moved my wand fast in a swirling pattern. "**Fulgeo**!"

The conjured electricity shot out, making full contact with one of the attackers' wet robes. A rough scream ripped through his throat while his body convulsed with the flowing current as everything around us was bathen in a flash of blue light.

I rolled to the side just in time to avoid a Killing curse. From my low position I shot a slicing curse aimed at the ankles of one of the Death Eaters. The wizard fell, cursing loudly, as his tendons were cut clean. A stunner followed the slicing curse, rendering him unconscious. The battle progressed for a few moments with neither side taking the lead until Smith went down suddenly as he was stunned and set on fire. He was already dead. The perpetrator laughed as he observed our comrade burning. In a fit of rage I sprang into action once more shooting Reductor Curses to the death eater's knees and wrists.

Bulstrode had also got up and was battling an unknown foe, while Alicia was screaming under a cruciatus. I watched as Proudfoot almost got hit with the Killing curse and conjured a shielding charm just in time to avoid the impact of another Reductor Curse. Meanwhile, I was making my way to the group. Proudfoot retaliated with a quick '**Confringo**' blowing up the chest of one of the Death Eaters. I winced at the blood spraying his face. He shouldn't have done that.

Either way there were only two to go.

"Regroup!" I heard Proudfoot shouting over the deafening rain..

A deep voice announced "**Avis!**" followed quickly by "**Oppugno!**". A swarm of conjured chirping birds came flying through the rain from Dedalus' wand. He had also recovered and was now battling.

The birds served as a distraction while I approached the outnumbered Dark Lord's followers. I launched myself forward bringing one of them down with me, just in time to interrupt the casting of a Killing Curse. At the same time, Bulstrode had conjured Fiendyfire on the other enemy. He died as his flesh was consumed by flames in form of beasts. The Death Eater before me snarled with anger trying to get up and point his wand at me, but before he could utter anything I shouted "**Sectumsempra**". On his torso appeared a wide cut, bleeding profusely as he started gurgling in an unintelligible manner. With no other option ahead, I petrfied the victim of my curse to stop the hemorrage.

Panting, sitting on top of the fallen Death Eater, I looked at Alicia's pathetic, shivering form. Smith was dead. Behind me, Proudfoot and Dedalus were also breathing heavily, looking for the rest of us. Bulstrode was sitting on his arse, eyes glued at Smith's burnt form. Corner had a deep, bleeding gash on his face. He had lost an eye. Williamson was still waking up from unconsciousness. He had hit his head rather hard with the explosion, but otherwise, he was unhurt.

"Shit" It was Bulstrode. He had gotten up and was staring at the immobilized form of one of the attackers. "That's my niece" he shook his head, looking disappointed, before sitting down again.

Proudfoot was already recovering, still breathing with effort. With a stoic expression in his hairy face, he stated his thoughts "We should kill them"

The thought was sickening to me. So naïve, so young...

I shook my head fiercely. "No.We should treat their wounds, then interrogate them. If we kill them, then we're not better than Voldemort. We need them to get the information"

So innocent...

He made a face. "I know I'm better than Voldemort, at least concerning that matter, thank you, Potter. That's why I'm still able to sleep at night. To stop them we don't need to be saints, just to ensure that what they do, doesn't happen anymore. The last thing I want to see right now is their escape from our prisons. We should slit their throats while we still can."

There were a few moments of silence. In the background, the sound of water was still hammering our ears.

I shook my head again. "No. We can't do that. We won't do that. We don't have time to argue, Proudfoot. We leave them here as they are. We need to get to the center of the town, where we were supposed to meet Savage's and Tonks' teams. They must have been attacked too and they will need any help they can get" Dedalus gave me his approval. "Proudfood, Dedalus, Bulstrode and I will go there then. Corner..."

"Yes?"

"Can you apparate from here?" he nodded. "Take Hestia, Alicia and Williamson to St. Mungos. Make a portkey to the ministry and take the Death Eaters there for interrogation"

"I'll see what I can do..."

I turned to the others.

"We should get going".

We did. We started running to the center of the village, as the noises of an ongoing battle were making themselves more intelligible as we were approaching the action. In our way, we could see crumpled, fallen forms of both allies and enemies resting on the ground, dying it of an angry red. Some known faces were staring at our blurred forms while our jaws tightened to the point of hurting.

A flash of pink caught my eyes. A group led by Tonks was running to the apparition points while firing hexes and charms. The swarm of Aurors and Order members passed through us, running rapidly to the exterior part of the village, seeking to get out of Hogwarts' anti-apparition wards.

Our group engaged the remaining Death-Eaters while letting the injured pass first. Everybody seemed to be hurt or bleeding in some way. My stomach twisted in shame and guilt. This could not be happening I had seen it all so clear...

But it was...

"Harry" She came to us, panting, grabbing my arms as the rest of the group continued running. "HARRY" she was crying, hysterical, pointing at the village with a shaking, bloody hand.

"Tonks! Are you ok? What happened!?"

She seemed, lost, her eyes unfocussed and her speech too affected by the nervousness. "Harry, I lost them! They came, they were so many! We couldn't do anything and I lost them! She was there, Harry, she was there, and she took Remus away! Ron and Hermione went with Savage after her, and I could do nothing!".

I already had a pretty decent ideo of who this "She" was. Shaking with white-hot rage, I made my mind up.

"Where?" I asked the metamorphmagus. Her finger, dirty and bloodied was still pointing to the center of the village.

"They went in there searching for Remus. They took him Harry! I could do nothing and they took him!". She was a mess. Sobbing hysterically. Handing Tonks to Proudfoot, I ignored any common sense I could still have, taking what, unknown to me, would be the worst decision of my life.

Or maybe the best...

"Take her and the rest of the group to the apparition points, I'll see if I can find the rest of them".

Proudfoot looked at me with pitying eyes. "Potter..."

I ignored him as I took off, running, to where Tonks had just pointed.

Poor, little, naïve fool.

I still could hear a faint "Potter wait!", before all discernible sound became blurry with the rain's noise. Passing through every hut, every building, I couldn't find anything, only water and grey stone walls.

In the rain, the village had become a maze. My eyes darted quickly from one corner to the other, while my feet were moving at a quick pace, ignoring my leg's aching muscles screaming for a rest. Everything was in tones of dark, cold grey.

Running, suddenly I realized that something was amiss. In my hurry, I didn't notice entering in the tight alleys in the back of the Honeydukes. Ahead of me there was nothing but a dark, narrow corridor made of stone The rain stopped for a moment, letting my ears rest, enjoying for the briefest moment the silence. There was something faint. A voice, far, at the other side of the town. The battle had stopped.

Then, more silence. The chilling air of the night hit my robes making the passage in front of me scream. I flinched at the sound, shivering with the freezing touch of that breeze. Something was wrong, something was off...

How right I was. I hate when I'm right...

Unfortunately, the battle t hadn't stopped for me yet.

A flash of blue light and a sharp pain brought me back out of my stupor. My leg had a deep gash, bleeding over my mud-stained clothes. I cursed loudly as I brought my wand up. I wasn't fast enough. Another flash of blue hit my wrist, cutting straight up to my tendons, rendering my hand useless and making me bleed all over the humid dirt.

My eyes were searching frantically for the wizard who had casted those spells, There was noone there. Nobody to be seen...

Another flash. Crimson light filled the tight alley.

"**Crucio**"

The pain came. I screamed loudly under the torture curse, feeling every inch of my body being torn a part, stabbed by hundreds of knives and hot-pokers. Even with my eyes shut tightly, I still saw the image of my body crumpled on the flor, contorted in a trembling, whimpering mass.

When the pain stopped, I felt something rushing to my mouth from my stomach. Blood erupted from my throat, on the floor, my body convulsing.

And then, there was laughter.

I could recognize that laughter everywhere. It made me sick, drove me mad. It made me want to hurt her, to kill her, to destroy her. It made me want revenge, oh sweet revenge, but again, my situation wasn't the best.

"Still trying to play with the grown ups, Potter?" She sang with her 'baby' voice. "You shouldn't if you don't know the rules..."

Hurting, I managed to look up at her. From my point of view, she was a terrifying figure, straight out from a nightmare. Those haunting, insane eyes under the white mask, the curly mane of dark hair, the black robes... I didn't want to die. I coughed a few times, earning more giggles from the insane blood-purist.

"Fuck you" I managed to spat at her.

She continued giggling. "So brave, baby Potter, oh so brave". Her boot collided with my stomach in a fierce kick. "So brave it's making me CRINGE!". Again, and again and again.

I vomited even more blood with every kick. The last one came straight to my face, turning me flat on my stomach. "Filthy half-blood! Stupid child! You should have known better! What will your mudblood and blood-traitor friends say? You sold them Potter"

I felt a bony hand tugging my hair up roughly. Her mask was off, mouth in a twisted smile. Squatted in front of me, she grabbed my head with both hands, pressing my cheeks rather painfully, her long fingernails digging into the flesh. Bellatrix drew her face closer, tilting mine to the side.

I felt her cold lips touching my skin and her tongue caressing my ear for a brief moment. Disgust and rage filled me along with the anger and disappointment of having a body unable to move. I wanted to hurt her, I wanted to make her suffer...

"You will die." the Dark Witch whispered into my ear, her voice a mockery of a child's. "At last, the Dark Lord will kill you. I'll be there to enjoy your last breath, filthy half-breed!" She slapped me. "I'll dance over your grave..." Once more. "And then, We'll torture your friends, reminding them of the failure you were!". I felt the tip of her wand at the pit of my stomach. "Rejoice, baby Potter. You'll see you 'pwetty', blood-traitor parents soon. Say hello to your whore of a mother, Potter!"

"**Reduc...**"

"BELLATRIX!"

Her incantation was interrupted by a masculine voice. Relief washed over me. My vision was blurry and unfocussed, but I could still see the figure approaching under the aggressive glare of my captor.

She growled in anger. "Not now, Lucius! WHAT DO YOU WANT? I'm having fun!"

"In case you've forgotten, Bellatrix, the Dark Lord wants him alive and preferably not bleeding all over the place!" The voice of Lucius Malfoy interrupted here once more. "I'm sure The Dark Lord will want to have his... 'entertainment' with him too, don't you agree, Bellatrix?"

Her hand let go of me and I fell crashing into the mud like a dirty rag doll.

"Aww, Lucius. I wanted to torture him a bit more..." She sounded disappointed. Bloody insane whore. "Such a pity...' she crouched, facing me again. '...It would have been my greatest pleasure to break you, Potter. Perhaps the Dark Lord will let me have you as a toy in the dungeons. Yes... he will, yes, yes..." she started murmuring to herself, forgetting the presence of her comrade.

"Get going, Bella. If we don't take him, he will die of bloodloss. The others will be looking for him soon, we need to get out of here. Tell Greyback and his group to retreat fast."

I continued to hear her murmur some unintelligible words to herself, but she didn't protest. Instead, I felt her leaving rather quickly. Malfoy paced around me for a bit. I opened my eyes again only to see his maskless face inches apart from mine.

"A pity indeed..." He laughed. "If I could, I would make you pay for every disgrace you've drawn upon my family, but I'm sure the Dark Lord has even better plans for you." He began running his wand through my face, poking me with every sentence. "You will wish Bellatrix had killed you when you face the Dark Lord, Potter."

He stood up again and pointed his wand at me.

" Now, let us go and..."

Something strange happened. Something that both parties couldn't comprehend, something that neither of us expected.

Malfoy suddenly began to gasp for air and tremble, as if he was asphyxiating. I could see him clutching his neck and torso desperately, trying to breathe, until he fell on his knees and started coughing violently.

To my shock, in a moment, as if an invisible hand hit him in the stomach, he started spatting and coughing up blood. Then, he commenced to have some sort of seizure, vomiting loads of the red liquid all over the street, all over me. The soil became tinted with crimson as the Death Eater's form fell, still twitching, at my side. I grimaced inwardly at Malfoy's face, covered in gore and vacant, with blood-shot, unfocussed eyes, staring at my pathetic visage in the final moments of his life.

I was terrified. The worst of the situation, was that I was unable to move, unable to do anything more than whimper pathetically. I was scared, frustrated, and I wanted to get out of there fast.

Footsteps drew my attention from the fallen corpse. I heard the faint rustle of clothes and the heavy steps of boots stepping over the mud.

"He-h-help, p-please, help"

The sound stopped. The dark figure stood in front of me. I couldn't see it clearly, but I could have sworn that it was a woman.

"H-h-help..."

I heard someone snorting. "No" The voice was cold, uncaring, feminine.

Fear grew inside me, spreading all over my body like fire. I wouldn't live past that night. I didn't want to die...

If I only had known...

I felt thin, slim hands lifting me up effortlessly, sitting me up against a wall. She seemed to be rather short, but her strength surprised me greatly. Trying to focus my vision, I caught a glimpse of two Icy-blue orbs, shining in the dark, and a frightening, fanged smirk.

At that point, I was barely conscious, lost in a sea of nerves and pain, but I could still comprehend what was happening. I could only try to babble my protest and move a bit.

"Die"

Her hands grabbed the collar of my robes and ripped it open with a strong tug. They were cold, clammy. Long fingers crept up my neck. Tilting my head to the side, I could feel her presence over me, drawing closer to my face, a damp tongue licking over my jugular vein.

A shiver ran through my spine. It was coming...

I screamed as I felt something pointy punctuating the skin on my neck, her mouth over the wound instantly. As I felt the tip of her tongue caress the bite, the pleasure began.

Was she sucking my blood? Drinking it?

I didn't care.

It was pleasant, very pleasant. It was bliss, it was ecstasy, it was heaven and I couldn't get enough. Better than sex, better than any drug you could get. Pleasure ripped through me with force, making me taste every moment of that never-ending orgasm, endorphines bombarding my brain. All I wanted, all I needed was there, at my grasp. I was about to die, and it was the best moment of my life. Words could not describe the feeling, you would have to experience it, to feel that rush.

The bliss stopped suddenly, making me groan as I felt her mouth leaving my neck. I wanted more, but I was so weak.

It barely passed a second when she spoke again. "Drink"

I felt cold drops impacting around my mouth and the touch of flesh pressing against it. As if it was instinctive, I opened it and swallowed greedily. It was revolting, wondrous, but at the same time, it was the best thing I had ever tasted. With strength I didn't know I possessed, I trapped her arm with my own, sucking on her wrist with passion. I wanted more, more of the delicious liquid. I had accepted the dark gift of her vitae.

Was it Blood I was swallowing?

I didn't care.

More of the liquid entered my system, until I felt my body starting to become cold, sleepy. I stopped drinking. Everything became cold, fuzzy. My body felt heavy and wasn't responding to my commands, dozing off. I sank into the embrace, loosing consciousness. Suddenly, everything turned black.

I could only feel her hand stroking my hair as my grip on her wrist loosened.

"Good night, my Childe."

* * *

**The Mysterious Nobody**

I hope you've enjoyed it. Let me know what you think.


	3. The Hunger of the Beast

**D****isclaimer**: I don't own "Harry Potter" or "Vampire The Masquerade" series. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction... those trademarks and non-original characters are owned by "J.K Rowling" "Raincoast Books" and "White Wolf Games Studio"

**Author's Notes**: This is the unbetaed version of the chapter. When it's done I'll upload the edited one, meanwhile, try to enjoy this one. Sorry for the lateness.

* * *

**The Blood of the Gods**

**CHAPTER 2: The Hunger of the Beast  
**

There was a dark haired girl, smiling, happy, dancing and singing around her father in the garden while her mother was inside the house looking at them through the window, laughing. The girl came to a halt suddenly, noticing that her father had, once again, stopped paying attention to her and had resumed his reading. He was always reading, always studying, always writing.

There was a black haired boy, a sad-looking boy. He sat in his cupboard wondering why he wasn't able to go out today. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks red. He hadn't done anything wrong, had he? His uncle had only called him a "freak" once more and closed the door without letting him explain. And his cousin... his cousin always lied.

Dark red velvet covered the walls in her father's study, and there were shelves, loads of shelves full of all kinds of books. The books had always fascinated her, specially her father's. They always talked about mysterious potions, strange concotions and weird ingredients, about the secrets of ancient magics and about creatures that, had she been alone in the room while reading them, would've given her nightmares. She sat there, reading yet another book, with the sound of her father's quill scratching parchment and his cauldron boiling easing her thoughts and soothing her wild imagination.

It had been a good day, he decided. Sure, his aunt and uncle were angry at him, but he didn't care. His cousin deserved it, after all, he had been mean to Mrs. Snake. When the glass disappeared and his cousin had fallen inside the water tank, he laughed. He laughed hard. He remembered the moment with mirth, watching the city pass by as a blur from inside the car, as his cousin was glaring holes through the back of his skull. Truth be told, he was also a little scared. Scared, not of Mrs. Snake, or his uncle, but of himself. When the snake had coiled around his cousin's plump body, he had also felt something he didn't know he could. He had experienced a strong surge of hatred, and deep down inside, wished for the fat boy to die, for his bones to be crushed and his lungs squeezed under the snake's pressure. He dared not think further.

Her father had come home distressed, his face ashen, shaking like a leaf in the wind. She saw, hidden behind the door, how her mother had slapped him and hugged him right after the blow. After that day, he had been avoiding her, he did not dare look at her. Was it because she could do no magic? Everything else remained the same, though. He still spent his days in his study. She still spent hours with him, even if he didn't notice, engrossed in his experiments. After all, he was her father.

Divination was not his favourite subject, that was for sure. Looking back, he couldn't decide what made him take it over the other options. Maybe the urge of staying with his best friend and the possibility to get an easy "Owl". He told himself that, as mad as she was, maybe the teacher had been right and he did not possess 'the sight' needed to see into the future. The future scared him, always had. The uncertainty of what would come tomorrow. After all, if something bad had to happen, he preferred not to know. He made his destiny through his actions, not through the conditioning of another. But if he lacked 'the sight', if he was scared of the future, how could he experience those visions? He had seen things, signs of something he could not grasp, something that made his nights restless and his mind uneasy. The grim, the black feathers, the snake... those would haunt him for years to come.

One day, a man had come into their house with her father. Her mother had eyed him warily, with distrust and fear, but said nothing. The man was tall, lanky, dressed in dark, fine robes with red lining, strangely decorated robes. She asked her mother if he was to be her betrothed, her mother denied it with a sad smile. She said that the man was her father's guest, and that he would help with his fathers investigations. She did not like the man, he scared her. The man kept coming into their home, and like him, more began to arrive. All of them strange and dark, but extremely polite. She didn't like them. They discussed about the intricacies of ancient magics, about the complexity of the human soul, about the mysteries of the night. From time to time, they discussed about her. Each time, when those men would leave her home, they would eye her and give her a smile. She did not like those smiles. The smiles were cold, dead. She did not like them at all.

The boy, a young man now, looked at the destruction in front of him. The battle had brought nothing but death. That was not what he wanted, that was not what he sought. His accomplishments, his preparations had brought nothing but the death of the ones he cared for the most, his adopted family, his mentor, his mother, his father... A black shadow was looming over him, observing, although he still didn't know it at the time. What would he do? Continue fighting? Seek revenge? The shadow consumed him.

The girl, a young woman now, looked at her mother with sadness in her eyes. She was crying, she didn't want to go with them. Her father told her it was a necessary evil, that it would make everybody happier, that it was needed for his discoveries, that if she did it, they could be always together. She did not believe it. Something was wrong and she knew it. With tears flowing down her cheeks, she looked at the black shadow looming over her, and full with sadness, full with regret and anger, she embraced it for her father's sake. The shadow consumed her.

The two of them met in the darkness. They stood, looking at each other, scrutinizing every detail of the figure facing them. The young woman extended her hand, offering it in a friendly gesture. Her face was neutral, devoid of emotion, blue eyes shining in a frightening cold mass of black. He stood long, looking at the offered hand, then at the hand's owner. Hesitating he took it in his his own, and a sinister smile crept up her face.

Suddenly, everything became red. A high-pitched shriek boomed inside his head, and with surprising strength, she pulled him to her, capturing him between her arms. With glowing eyes, the young woman hypnotized the young man, seduced her victim until his will was gone, subdued. Trapped in her arms he realized that the only thing he could do was to let go.

When he stopped struggling, when the fear went away, she caressed him in a gentle and caring manner. The young man fell prey of her charms, melting away in her arms, and when he thought everything passed, she smiled, showing him her fangs for the first time, pointy, frightening. Before he had ay chance to start struggling again, the young woman's fangs sank into his flesh, penetrated into his skin drawing blood with brutal force.

He screamed in pain, until his scream turned into a moan of delight and acceptance of what was to come. Bright spots of light appeared before his eyes, making him blind to the rest of the world. Instead of resuming his struggle, the boy grabbed her with the little strength he had, not letting go of his predator. A kiss was his reward, like anything he had tasted until that. She detached herself from his flesh and locked her lips with his own passionately, giving him the greatest pleasure he had ever felt, administering him her ambrosia. He drank eagerly. While reveling in the taste of his own life essence, mixed with something strange, primal and powerful, he could have sworn that he heard his greatest foe laugh, his presence a mere shadow of what it had been before, and repeat what was once said to him:

"_You're a fool, Harry Potter, and you will lose everything_"

...

I woke up suddenly, disoriented and terrified. I was wet, probably from sweating, and the sheets clung to me like a second skin. The images of the dream still lingered in my head while I was still trying to process without much success my current situation. I was naked, I noted with a slight pang of embarrassment, and laid in a bed not my own. A four-poster bed comfortable and smooth, antique-looking, with satin covers and a silk sheet, that, had not been damp, would have been as light as a feather to the touch.

The bed rustled as I tried to move with increasing difficulty and the satin sheet stopped caressing my body, cascading down to the ground instead. The wooden structure squeaked in protest as my body shifted its weight over the mattress, breaking for a moment the silence in the room. My feet felt the ground, and strangely enough, it was warm to the touch. With some effort I moved the curtains aside, failing a couple of times, and took into the view that greeted me.

It was a pretty big bedroom, luxurious, with big windows on one side and a fireplace at the other. It was dark, probably late in the night, but the moonlight crept in through the windows, caressing the bed and the rich couches resting opposite from me, in front of the fireplace. Strangely, I could see clearly as if it was midday. On the walls, hung enormous pictures of strangely sinister people, a few coats of arms and numerous tapestries. Between the couches, just in the middle, rested a wooden, small table. On top of it a single book, open, waited to be read, separated from its companions resting in the opulent, tall shelves just behind the couches. Keeping the book company were a tall crystal glass and an uncorked, old-looking bottle of wine.

I checked myself next. I felt odd, a bit ill, and I was naked from head to toe but other than that, I was perfectly fine. Or so I thought.

At my side I noticed a small chair with folded clothes on it and a little note.

"Dress yourself" it read.

I obeyed, as I wasn't very fond of my nakedness. A dress shirt and trousers, all in black, and a pair of black formal shoes. The shoes were a little tight-fitting, but I wasn't gong to complain, not that there was anyone to complain to, at least for the moment.

The situation was strange, I know, but there wasn't much else I could do. Maybe I could have tried to escape, but I didn't even know where I was, much less how I got there. I preferred not to panic and rationalize my state. Maybe someone had rescued and taken care of me. I was relatively unharmed and definitely unrestrained. I didn't know if my little patience would get the best of me later, but I decided to wait at least for a bit and see who my host was and what were their motives.

I paced through the room, exploring it and taking in every detail. Although I still felt the illness and my palms were a tad sweaty, the darkness and the moonlight were comforting, calming. They felt right. I could somewhat 'feel' the night, notice its time fading with every step I took. As I approached the wooden table, just in front of the fireplace, my palms felt sweatier, the sickness came stronger and coldness overtook me. I realized I was shaking, and I didn't know why.

It wasn't just the sickness, though, there were far more primal instincts that awoke inside me, feeding those sensations. Fear and Hunger. Suddenly my stomach felt empty, as If I had never had eaten in my life and fear spread rapidly through me. As the flames danced before my eyes, the need to fill the emptiness in my stomach increased with every second.

My vision became blurry and the fear in me increased by the minute almost rendering me useless. I tried to walk back, but with every movement, I felt weaker and more light-headed. The need also became more demanding, a strong need for something, to replenish a pool lost in the translation to my new state. It would help me regain control, yes, it would. I struggled to maintain my mind, but the more time I spent looking at those flames, the worse everything got. Now I felt cold all over, and in desperation, my body moved on its own with speed I didn't know I had while my brain was trying to regain control of the situation.

Before I could realize what happened, I noticed I had crawled through the floor and found refuge in one dark corner. Everything seemed different now, the room had changed, it had grown tall and menacing. I felt like an animal in a forest, trying to avoid harm at all costs. My eyes were darting across, looking through the space for threats while my body demanded just one thing.

I didn't know what was happening. From what I knew, I could've even been drugged. There are plenty of spells and potions giving some of the side-effects I was feeling, and most of those methods were easily usable on an unconscious wizard. It could have been a modified confundus charm, or maybe a ritual.

Whatever it was, it had taken control of me. I could no longer control myself, and with horror, I could only watch as someone else was operating my body for me. It couldn't be Voldemort, no. This wasn't external, this was in me. Part of me. It was natural…

"You must feed, quickly!" I stilled. _'What was that?_'

It stirred inside of my head, and once more whispered behind my ears; "Aren't you hungry, Harry?"

I looked around and saw nothing, without time to feel relieved to have had gained control over my actions again. The room was still, silent, albeit menacing.

"Feed, feeed, feeeeed…"

I grabbed my head in pain as the volume got louder and the hunger returned at full force. It took control over me again. I couldn't resist its strength, impulsive, raw, primal… It was like a part of me that had been abandoned long ago. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing aside the hunger gripping my insides with a force I had never felt.

The hunger was everything, and my eyes could only watch in horror as my body moved on its own, tearing everything on is way to find whatever it was craving for. I was scratching myself, biting my fingers and arms, drawing blood. The sight of red only made the monster inside of stronger. It had completely taken over me, and like a beast, stomped through everything in the way of its craving.

The room had become a prison which the animal controlling me wanted to escape. It would stop at nothing…

Suddenly, it stilled. I stilled. I couldn't hear anything, but a cold dread spilled over the beast I had become. Something else was in the room, something strong, something that presence inside me registered as superior.

It looked up, submissive, to see in-between the blurriness of my vision, a strangely familiar face staring down at me, with a mixture of amusement and disgust. The beast hissed like a terrorized cat inside of my head.

"It'ss herrrrr… the one who made usssss… we mussssst…." It became weaker. Weak enough for me to regain control of my extremities and crawl pathetically to the newcomer.

Whoever it was, I realized by the wailing of that disgusting thing inside of me, it was the one who had done this to me. Who had put me in this… in this state.

"You're strong. Not many could have resisted the Frenzy and Rotschreck for so long, specially as a neonate and without feeding. I'm sure our time together will be, to say the least, interesting…" She was muttering to herself more than she was saying it outright to me, but it was as if she intended me to hear. "Most curious indeed"

"What did you do to me?" I uttered through clenched teeth, trying to grab one of her legs. With little effort she moved to the side avoiding my hands and crouched beside me. She looked down at me without saying anything, she just stared with annoyance and grabbed me from the chin to look into my eyes.

It was then that I saw her clearly; She was a woman probably in her mid-thirties, with Mediterranean features. The woman wasn't particularly beautiful, but she was more than easy on the eyes. Her nose was a bit pointed and prominent, but it suited her heart-shaped face. Her cheeks were a bit full, making her look youthful, but her eyes, blue and expressive, almond-shaped, betrayed that sensation, showing experience beyond her apparent age. Her hair, dark brown, almost black, was styled in an old-fashioned way, but it seemed to fit her. She was wearing some sort of red, velvet tunic, like a robe, with golden embroidery, over a suit that seemed pulled straight out of the 1940's, all in black with a black, wide, pin-striped trousers and a white button-up shirt open at the neck. Hanging there was a strange amulet, a locker, golden with a single black stone.

Overall she couldn't have been taller than the average woman, but she looked like a giant to me. She had an air of strangeness over her, like something was out of place, and while seemingly normal, if you looked hard enough, you could see details on her that weren't possible in a normal muggle or wizard, like her skin, totally devoid of colour and almost grey in appearance.

"Pitiful" She muttered while she let go of my head and rose from the ground. "This is a sight I could've gone without" She exclaimed, moving to the centre of the room and grabbing the bottle of wine. As she was approaching me, a shrill alarm sounded through the room. I recoiled while she picked up a small phone from one of the pockets in her outfit and started talking. Her demeanour seemed to change for a moment, and with her back turned to me, started talking.

"...ourse I will... It shall be done My Lord... ...No, has just awaken... ...I know his abilities are of utmost importance, that's why I'll be taking him out to... ...yes... ...of course, gladly... ...If I may ask, why so soon with him?... ...I'm afraid, My Lord, that isn't possible... ...Yes, I know that! But I'm his Sire, and I don't think he'll be ready for another two months! ...Of course, that wasn't necessary, nor my place to say, forgive me... ...I believe the Prince will have no problems with those decisions... ...of course... ... I respect your authority... ...I understand... ...As you wish..."

I could hear most of the conversation, but my mind was far too affected by what had just happened to pay attention to it. She hung up and came to me slowly, deliberately.

"What did you do to me?" I repeated, looking up at her. "What did you do to me!"

Kneeling down beside me, bottle in hand, she ignored my question and forced my chin up with a strong grip. As the bottle was coming to my lips the anger returned, and that disgusting beast resumed its control at full force, fuelling rage through my body once again.

"WHAT DID YOU DO!" I screamed at her, struggling against her hold.

With strength I didn't know she could possibly have she pinned me to the ground with her arm, but I wasn't defeated. My hand flew to her face, and she reacted avoiding it, albeit too late to prevent the bottle from being hit. It went to the ground, without breaking, but its contents spilled over the floor, staining it dark red.

I became transfixed at the sight of that liquid, and didn't see what was coming next.

Faster than my eyes could follow, she backhanded me and sent me face-first on the floor, a couple of meters away from where I had been just seconds ago. That voice, that 'beast' inside of me receded upon the impact, giving me, once more, full control of my body.

She grabbed the bottle and came to me once more. "I am your Sire and the Regent of this Chantry, and to me you're nothing more than a worm. You don't hold much more value at this point. I'm in control here. You will show me the respect that you owe me, is that clear?" I avoided looking at her. "LOOK AT ME!"

Instantly, I looked at her from the ground and I felt a fear that I had felt only twice before. The first time in the presence of the Dark Lord, upon his resurrection. The second, at the time, had been not long ago. She looked like an angered banshee, a giantess. She stood, dark, apart from the rest of the room like a fire in the night, her presence hid a dark and menacing force, now used at its full potential against me.

It made me shiver.

"Here" She offered, passing me the bottle. "Drink this. It will make you feel better, for now, and make you calm enough to pay attention"

Meekly, afraid of her reaction, I took the bottle and downed its remaining contents through my throat.

When the first drop of that liquid touched my tongue, the world exploded, and a flurry of sensations overcame me. Pleasure like I had never felt invaded my senses and all my worries went away. Like the sweetest brand of liquor, like my new, personal favourite drug. I drank, and drank a bit more, and I felt strong. I felt I was at the top of the world while the hunger inside me was satiated in way any need I had ever had, hadn't ever been satiated.

I was still emptying the bottle greedily, lost in the sensation when she started to talk.

"I gave you a gift" She said

"Huh?" I commented dumbly still transfixed with my drink.

"I gave you a gift, Harry. Probably the best gift one can give."

Even though I was a tad disoriented, my face reflected the surprise. That, I did not expect. But it was just the tip of the iceberg. "Wh-What?"

"I'm answering your question" She said, nonchalantly. "You've asked me what have I done with you, have you not? I'm giving you an answer"

She walked over to me, slowly, like a predator, watching me squirm with every step. Suddenly she was over me and I felt a sharp tug on my head. She grabbed a fistful of hair, forcing me to look at her directly in the eye. The bottle slipped from my grasp and went rolling through the floor again.

Her sinister smile widened even more. "I gave you a chance, a new one. Don't you remember, Harry?"

Suddenly, as her eyes bored into mine, I remembered. Everything came to me like a hurricane of information, hitting my head, making my already grave case of nausea even worse.

The drinks, Hermione, the Dark Lord's plans, Hogsmeade, rain, the aurors, more rain, Proudfoot, the explosion, fire, death, water, death eaters, Tonks, Bellatrix, the back alleys, pain, Lucius Malfoy, blood, a strange woman, the bite...

My thoughts made me shrink in fear as I remembered the moments before I passed out. The crimson blood of the older Malfoy being coughed up violently between cries of agony. Nausea hit me again, but on the back of my mind, I could feel a needle of pleasure, attacking my conscience. I remembered her, how she appeared, her strength, terror grabbed a hold of me, tight, making me cower even more.

"What a-are you?"

"Not me, Harry" She said with a malicious smile.

"Wh-what?"

"We"

She started stroking my hair, slowly, in a surprisingly gentle manner. Then, she brought her lips close to my ear, and with a whisper, she made me shiver.

"Last night, Harry, I saved you. Last night, Harry, I killed you."

I tried to move, to trash, to scream, but she was faster. Effortlessly, with strength she didn't seem to possess, the dark-haired woman held me in place.

"Surely you'll have lots of questions. You asked some before, not too kindly, but you'll receive your answers. You'll have to learn to listen, understand and judge correctly before assuming that you're not going to receive a response..."

She helped me up and slowly took me to the couches in front of the fireplace. She sat elegantly and looked at me as if ordering to follow her lead. I did. I still felt the fear, I still wished I could bolt out of her grasp, but a part of me wanted to continue that conversation. The dark part of me, wanted to know, no, needed to know.

"Arbitrium Vincit Omnia" She exclaimed. " It's the motto of our Clan. It's Latin. Do you know what it means?"

I motioned 'no' with my head. I was still scared witless, wondering what the hell a 'clan' was, and my Latin was a bit rusty. She looked at me in the eyes.

"Reason conquers all things. That's what it means. As I said, you have to learn to listen and to judge reasonably before drawing your conclusions. All I'm asking you is to listen to me. I've got a lot of things to say to you tonight, things that will probably destroy every perception you have about how you see the world. I'm not going to ask you to trust me, you should learn to trust no one. I'm asking you to listen, to learn."

She shifted her position and crossed her legs. With a movement of her hand, the fire at our side became lower and the light in the room diminished even more. She grabbed the book that had been resting on the table the whole time and passed it to me. It fell on my lap, startling me.

"My name is Angèle Ouvrard. I'm your sire, a valuable asset of Clan Tremere, and the Regent of this Chantry…"

She paused for a moment, assessing my reaction. Meanwhile, I had been looking at the old, dusty book resting heavily in my lap. On the cover it read: "Vampyr du Tremere". I looked at her and her gaze met mine, and with a predatory smile she continued, muttering the words that would change my world forever.

"… And I am a Vampire"

_To be Continued…_

* * *

Here, at last, an update. It's been a rough year for me, but I think it's not fair to let this story die. I'll go uploading what I have, and hope you still have some sort of interest for this story.

Anyway, It'd be great to have some feedback about how do you see the story, so leave comments and opinions in your reviews. Anything for the sake of improving this.

Thank you,

**The Mysterious Nobody.**


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